Oh, it's just those kids scissoring each other to Lady Gaga.

Shockingly, I don't have very many friends.

So when I tell people that I go to the movies alone, they always look at me with this strange mix of curiosity and confusion (with maybe a dash of awww while they're at it). But, it's been like this forever. In fact, when I was ten years old, I was the only person in an afternoon showing of Arachnophobia.

And while theater visits are solo missions more often than not, it's home where I'm really starting to feel it. I watch a lot of um, bad movies, and more often than not, I find myself thinking, I need some friends to watch this shit with. But then the thought crosses my mind: They probably would have talked you out of this one.

That said, it's a bit ironic that yesterday, after not seeing each other for a year, my good friend Dunph told me that he'd recently seen Zombeavers which oddly enough, was the last movie I actually finished watching, too. And while we both chuckled out how stupid it was (/we are?), there wasn't anything else to say about it.

Except, well...all of this.

Three college girls head to the dreaded cabin in the woods for a girls weekend, after one of the chicks finds out her boyfriend has cheated on her. While this little endeavor was supposed to be a romantic getaway for three couples, after the alleged tryst, it's no boys allowed. Bummer, right? Not entirely.
Shortly thereafter, the Slutty One decides to do just about everything topless, and all is quickly forgiven.

Well, not really.

Eventually the guys show up anyway, and for a minute, there's a story. Luckily that minute passes, and it's back to cute college girls and rabid beavers. No, no. Actual beavers. 

Oh, right, I forgot to mention the beavers. The um, zombie beavers. These hairy f--kers were mutated after an unfortunate accident upstream, and have decided they must kill pretty much everything they see. While that's probably ridiculous enough, it turns out that everything the beavers kill will eventually turn into a zombeaver, too. Yep. You read that right: you get bit by a zombeaver, your ass is gonna be a zombeaver. I mean, if you're gonna make something this retarded, you might as well go all in. 

Speaking of pointless shit that should probably never be seen by anyone, here are the Yays and Boos. You might look at this one on Netflix and immediately hang your head in something resembling shame, when we saw it was 72 minutes, it was all we could do to not immediately begin doing our happy dance.

Left to right: Supposedly Nice Girl, Timid Blonde, Slutty One

Yaaaaaaaaaaaay!

• Holy shit, the first five (and last two) minutes, featuring Bill Burr and John f--king Mayer may have some of the funniest lines I've heard all year. I hear a lot of myself in this story.
• That was a rad title sequence. Big fan of this, I am.
• I guess this is a Yay, but the pre-zombie beavers are just the worst f--king things you've ever seen. I could take an actual turd from my own ass and craft something that looked more like a beaver than these f--king monstrosities.
• Even though I honestly wasn't a fan, the amount of nudity (and the way it was presented) gets three thumbs up. Wait, that last one? Don't touch it. That might not be a thumb.
• Rex Linn. You, sir, are a motherf--king genius.
• I was thrilled when the guys showed up. First, that means more bodies. But second, they propose a safety orgy...which just sounds so...logical.
• Hate to spoil the awesomeness...but...someone dies. When a tree falls on them. Because beavers chewed it down. [dear reader, please, think of the timing that would take]
• Oh, and a guy gets his dick chewed off. Very little timing involved there.
• There's a pretty epic discussion about Beaver Fever (that's code for diarrhea, by the way).
• The gag reel at the end is pretty sweet.
• And finally, the entire production is a painstaking nod (loving rip-off) of about 90% of the movies I watched growing up in the 80s. From the first kill not revealing the monsters, down to the heavy use of POV early on, even though it's entirely ridiculous, these guys knew what they were doing. 

Thank you, I just had it stuffed.

Booooooooo!

• I know it's not terribly original, but my zombie movie, The Peaceful Dead, was totally going to have the ol' cannister into the water supply, too. Now I'll guess I stop writing that script I never really started.
• Let me guess...no service? Even self-aware, I still hate this.
• Slutty One was a tad...disappointing, honestly. I know, I know. I'm a dick.
• Hey look, a beaver dam. Let's swim toward it.
• I guess there's no otter way around this (God, I should delete that), but after beating the shit out of a zombeaver to no avail, Dickhead Guy yells How could it still be alive? Well, technically, sir...
• Okay, this is probably a Yay, but that typical moment when they realize the land line isn't working!! Well, here...it's because, you know, the beavers cut it. (you know what? this is a Yay)
• They sacrifice a tiny dog to get away, making me feel bad for a moment. How do you think that little dog feels?
• Apparently, the beavers attacked a giant bear, turning it into a Zombeaver Bear. This is a Boo only because it's not what the whole f--king movie is about.
• And finally, I was momentarily very disappointed with our last-man standing. Er, woman. It broke all the rules that this movie follows so fervently. Key word: momentarily.

After finishing Zombeavers, I had a moment of clarity. I consume so many B (and C and D) grade movies alone, I don't even get the joy of looking over at another human being and laughing with or at the events on screen. Anyway, for me, this moment has led to a credo of sorts:

Watching movies is a lot like having sex: Typically, it's much more enjoyable with someone else in the room. 

Or, in this particular situation...

There's only so much (imaginary?) beaver one guy can handle all by himself.